Find Something Worth Saving (it's All For The Taking)

➤ find something worth saving (it's all for the taking)

CHAPTER EIGHT: CONNECTIONS

SUMMARY ↳ So.. dinner with the family. Yikes. Damian doesn't release his hold until you're both in a quieter part of the manor, away from potential eavesdroppers. "You enjoy teasing me, don't you?" he murmurs, voice dropping. You grin saliciously. "Of course I do," you reply, your voice teasing as you lean in closer to Damian. "It keeps things interesting, doesn't it?" warnings: subtle "accusations" of cheating wc: 4.4k NOTICE: im gonna start adding my notes/end notes on ao3 from now on if i have any. they just include my yapping (the beginning notes are usually just warnings anyway) i might go back and add them to previous chaps, might not.

You actually spend the next morning skipping your first classes in exchange for visiting the Den. You’ve had perfect attendance so far, so you’re only grievance is that you won’t be able to brag about it anymore. You’ll send in an excuse note later.

The reason for your absence is to take note of what you need for the badassium. Karen lists things off for you as you write them on a little note. A lot of it is high-grade expensive stuff. If Victoria can’t get it for you, you’ll just ask her for the money to get it yourself. Or just ask her where you can steal it.

You arrive only a tad bit late to ballet class. That’s a lie, there’s five minutes left till the bell. The teacher barely notices, too occupied with scolding some of the other kids. Victoria sees you enter and scurries over.

“Where were you?” she asks.

You pull out the list, holding it up to her. “Making this.” You hold it out to her. “It’s a list of all the stuff I need. You wanna help me? Get me these.”

She takes the paper, looking it over. “What is it?”

“Materials I need. I’m building something really important.” Victoria’s eyes roam the sheet, before nodding and tucking it into her bra.

“How fast do you need them?”

“As fast as you can get them without raising suspicion. If you can’t get them, either give me the money or tell me where I can pick it up myself.”

Victoria raises a brow. “You’d steal it?”

You shrug. “What, like it’s hard?”

She huffs is disbelief. She’ll get used to you soon enough. The bell rings, and you and Victoria walk out together. “My staff are very discreet,” she reassures. “I will get it to you.”

“Drop it off at this location,” you text her the address. It’s an old apartment close to your Den. No one lives there, you made sure.

Determined to be of use, she nods. You wave her goodbye as you drop her off. Since you missed first period, you’ll only get to see Damian at the end of the day. You also missed lunch, so there goes your most fulfilling meal of the day.

You’re beginning to feel like a zombie. You’ve always been isolated from your peers, not on purpose, most of the time. Your mind is simply far beyond theirs in every universe, it seems. It’s why you started online classes, you simply just couldn’t stand being in school with others. It was just so boring . Unfortunately for you, you’re stuck in class. Life’s rough. Maybe you should start skipping more often. You can definitely catch up, you just have to not miss too many classes.

Ms. M greets you with a bright and cheery disposition, quite the opposite to your current demeanor. You give Ms. M a stiff but polite smile, trying to muster some enthusiasm. She’s one of the few teachers you actually like, her passion for the subject always evident.

You place your head down on your desk, feeling the lull of boredom pull you under. As Ms. M begins her lecture, you try to focus, but your mind keeps drifting back to the list of materials and your plans for the badassium. The thought of finally making significant progress makes you giddy.

Luckily for your peace of mind, Ms. M has a short lecture for the day with no assignment. She leaves the class alone for the remainder of the day. You shut your eyes, breathing calm. Feeling the call of sleep, you answer, escaping from the boringness of the day.

Except a finger flicks your ear, rudely disturbing your would-be sleep.

“Where were you this morning?” He doesn’t waste time with pleasantries. He never does.

“Damian,” you murmur, rising. “May I help you?”

“Not here,” you grumble. “I had to take care of some stuff. And I was kind of thinking about not even coming at all.” It’s true. Most people in their right mind just stay home if they’re even ten minutes late.

You cup Damian’s face, making his lips pucker. “Aw, is this your roundabout way of saying you want to take care of me? You’re so sweet.”

Damian picks a piece of lint from your collar. “I thought that perhaps you were affected by Ivy’s abilities. After all, I doubt you are capable of taking care of yourself.”

He takes your hands into his own, pulling them away. “I didn’t think you the unfaithful type, [Name].”

You blink. “Huh?”

“Considering the compromising position I found you and Victoria in, certainly the two of you are… together?” His face twists as he says the last word. Oh, yeah. You forgot that he walked in on the two of you. The whole carnival thing occupied your thoughts.

“Well, first of all–” you start, placing your hands in your lap, tugging his hands there as well. “–you make it sound like we’re in the regency era and I’ve just compromised the young lady Victoria,” you huff in a British accent, rolling your eyes. “Second of all, what you walked in on was a… confusing situation. We kissed, agreed we were better of as friends, and that’s that. I am not the unfaithful type, fuck you,” you grin. Leaning back, you raise your legs so perch them on his thighs. Surprisingly, he lets you.

“So don’t worry, I’m still available and I would never cheat on you, baby.”

He pinches your thigh in retaliation, before moving to massage your calves. You let your head hang over the edge of your chair, relaxing. Damian’s got skilled hands, he has too. From his background as an assassin and his current occupation as Robin. His fingers work the stress out of your muscles. His hands feel really nice.

“We’ll go to my home to work more on the project,” he mutters, focused on his current task. You hum in contentment, the tension in your muscles melting away under Damian's skilled hands. “Sounds good to me,” you murmur. “Alfred makes really good sandwiches.”

Damian continues to knead your calves for a few more moments before finally stopping. “You’ve become spoiled.”

You laugh softly, sitting up and stretching. “Says the rich one.” You and Damian gather your things as the last bell rings. Stepping outside, you breathe in the cool air. It’s getting colder in Gotham, soon it’ll start snowing. Damian’s hand finds its place on your back, guiding you to the car. You make sure to greet Alfred as you step inside. 

“How’s Jon doing?” you ask. “I hope he isn’t too embarrassed about what happened.”

“Jon is fine. The antidote did it’s part. As for his unnecessary embarrassment…” he trails off, “...you should ask him yourself.”

You tsk. “Useless,” you joke. You have a feeling Jon will do anything to ignore and forget about what happened, so you’re not sure how easy it’ll be to ask him.

Wayne Manor stands before you once again as you arrive. The sprawling estate is both imposing and welcoming, a testament to the Wayne family’s legacy. You step out of the car, feeling a mix of anticipation and exhaustion.

When you enter, you’re greeted by a loud bark. A large dog, a Great Dane, rounds the corner. He trots happily towards Damian, panting. Damian gives him generous pets.

“This is Titus,” he introduces. Titus barks at you in greeting.

You grin reaching out a hand to pet him. “Hi, Titus.” Titus leans into your scritches, making you coo and increase your petting tenfold. 

“Sorry about that! I guess he knew you were here and got excited,” says a voice, rounding the corner. A figure clad is comfy loungewear makes his way over to the two of you. You clock him immediately as none other than Dick Grayson. He bears a charming smile as he approaches.

“You must be Damian’s friend I’ve heard so much about,” he greets, holding out a hand.

You shake it, looking at Damian smugly. “You talk about me, Dami?” You grin as he glares at you.

“I’m his older brother, Dick.”

The urge to make a joke is very strong, but you persevere. Wrong audience. “Nice to meet you. Damian hasn't mentioned you at all," you tease lightly, shooting Damian a playful glance.

Dick chuckles, looking between you and Damian with a knowing expression. "I can see that. Well, if you're Damian's friend, you're welcome here anytime. And it's always nice to meet someone who can keep him on his toes."

You chuckle softly, liking his easygoing demeanor. "Thanks, Dick. I'll do my best to keep him in line."

Damian doesn’t like how you and his brother are plotting against him in front of him, so he grabs you arm and drags you away. “We have work to do, Grayson. Do not bother us.”

Dick grins and winks as you two disappear from view. As Damian drags you away, you shoot Dick a playful wave before disappearing from view. You can hear Dick's laughter echoing behind you, amused.

Damian doesn't release his hold until you're both in a quieter part of the manor, away from potential eavesdroppers. "You enjoy teasing me, don't you?" he murmurs, voice dropping.

You grin saliciously. "Of course I do," you reply, your voice teasing as you lean in closer to Damian. "It keeps things interesting, doesn't it?"

“It seems to be your only talent,” he says, turning to look at you. Your faces are close together, breaths intermingling.

Your playful grin widens at his comment, enjoying the closeness as Damian's gaze meets yours. "Oh, I have plenty of talents," you retort smoothly, teasingly brushing a stray lock of hair from his forehead. Damian's pupils dilate, a glint flickering in his eyes before he regains his composure.

"Is that so?" he challenges, a smirk playing on his lips. His hand, which had been resting on your arm, moves to lightly trace the line of your jaw, his touch sending a shiver down your spine.

You lean into his touch, meeting his gaze with a mixture of playfulness and genuine affection. "Mhm," you murmur, your voice low. "But you'll have to stick around to find out all my secrets."

The intensity in Damian's eyes deepens, his thumb brushing lightly against your cheek. "Maybe I intend to," he replies, his voice dropping to a husky whisper.

Before the moment can escalate further, a loud bark interrupts the thick atmosphere. Titus, ever the loyal companion, trots over to Damian’s side, breaking the spell between you and Damian. You chuckle softly, pulling back slightly as Damian withdraws his hand.

Damian straightens beside you, brushing his hands down his front. Clearing his throat, grumbles. “We are distracted, we should be working.”

You shrug, easy. “You’re the guide.”

Damian leads you into the same room you worked in the last time you visited. Titus takes perch under the table, settling in and curling up. Today will probably be the last time you’re invited over for a while, if not indefinitely. You’re sure you’ll finish the powerpoint in an hour or so, so you wonder if Damian will kick you out as soon as that happens.

You hand Damian your laptop, since it’s been mostly you doing the actual work, it’s his turn. His fingers fly across the keys as he types. You sit on the table next to him and point out things he should add. You both work in comfortable silence, occasionally broken by your comments and Damian's terse responses. The atmosphere is focused, the earlier playful tension replaced by a shared sense of purpose. 

After an hour or so, you lean back, stretching your arms above your head. "I think that covers everything," you say, looking over the final slide.

Damian gives a final, scrutinizing look at the presentation before nodding in agreement. "It’s comprehensive," he admits, shutting the laptop. "We should be prepared for any questions they throw at us."

"Good," you reply, hopping off the table. "Now that the hard part's done, let's hope the presentation goes smoothly."

Damian closes your laptop and sets it aside. "It will. We've covered every angle. Even if they ask something unexpected, we can handle it."

You smile, appreciating his confidence. You stretch once more, your muscles appreciating the movement after sitting for so long. Titus wakes up from his nap, prancing over to you. You kneel and pet his face generously. He whines when you pull away to gather your stuff.

As you gather your things, you notice Damian watching you with an inscrutable expression. You can't quite read what's going on in his mind, but there's a sense of something unsaid lingering in the air.

“What is it?” you ask.

Damian hesitates, which he seems to do a lot around you. It’s strange to you how someone who appears so sure of himself, so absolute can do such a thing. “What are your plans for your future?”

You blink, taken aback. “Like… after high school?”

He nods, his gaze intense. "Yes. What do you see yourself doing?"

It's a question you haven't given much thought to, caught up as you are in the present challenges. You don’t really want to give it much thought. Being here long enough to go to college makes your stomach turn. You can’t pretend like you have been miserable all this time. You’ve made friends, made a life here. But it’s not your life.

“I haven’t really thought about a college or anything. I know I want to help people,” you say, eyes trailing off. “What do you wanna do?”

Damian’s expression softens. “I want to continue my fathers legacy. Do everything to make the city safer, I suppose. However, I would also like to explore my own interests.”

“I look forward to seeing your art in a museum, Damian,” you declare, facing him.

There's a moment of shared understanding between you, a recognition of the complexities that lie beneath the surface. It's a comforting feeling, knowing that despite your differences, you share a common drive to carve out your own paths.

A polite knock echoes against the door before it opens. Dick pokes his head out with a smile on his face. “Hey, you two. Hope I’m not interrupting anything?”

You shake your head. “Nah, we just finished.” You shoulder your bag over your shoulder. “I was actually about to head out.”

Dick perks up. “Actually, Alfred wanted to know if you would like to stay for dinner.”

“–Actually I think I will stay for dinner,” you grin at Damian. Only a fool would skip out on a chance to taste Alfred Pennyworth’s cooking. Any pokes and prods about your identity you’ll meet head on, and any chance to embarrass Damian is a good chance.

Behind you, Damian freezes and narrows his eyes. “As [Name] was just saying, they were leaving–”

Dick matches your grin, nodding. “I’ll let him know.” He disappears, closing the door and leaving you two alone

Damian scowls. “Whatever you are planning–”

“I have no wrong intentions whatsoever Damian,” you furrow your brows and place a hand on your chest in mock offense. “I’m offended you think so low of me.”

Damian's scowl deepens, clearly not amused by your teasing. "You always have some ulterior motive," he accuses, crossing his arms.

You step closer, looking up at him with a mischievous glint in your eye. "Maybe I just want to enjoy a nice dinner with your family. Is that such a crime?"

He narrows his eyes suspiciously. "Fine. But don't think I won't be watching you."

You smirk playfully. "I wouldn't expect anything less."

With that settled, you follow Damian out of the room and into the sprawling manor once more. The atmosphere shifts slightly as you join Damian and Titus, walking through the grand halls towards the dining room. You can't help but feel a mixture of excitement and curiosity about what dinner with the Wayne family will entail.

When you step into the room your senses immediately buzz with anticipation, jittering around your skull. Just about every single member of the Batfamily is present. Even goddamn Jason Todd is here, helping Alfred set the table. It boosts your ego a little bit. Bruce Wayne greets you as you enter.

“I’m glad we can have you over,” he smiles. “Damian doesn’t have many friends to bring over.”

You snort at Damian’s grunt. You decide not to push Damian's buttons further in front of his family. For now. "Thank you for having me, Mr. Wayne," you reply politely.

Bruce nods back, his smile warm and welcoming. "Please, call me Bruce. Make yourself at home."

You take your seat at the large table, Damian at one side and Dick at the other. Everyone else settles in as well. Alfred serves the meal, a fancy foreign meal you don’t understand the name of. Damian, of course, gets a vegetarian portion of it.

Jason speaks up first. “You gonna introduce us or what?” He asks Damian. He looks about a second way from pulling out a hidden knife from somewhere, so Dick jumps in to save the day.

“This is [Name], they’re Damian’s classmate and…” he pauses for dramatic effect, “...friend!”

The table erupts in chuckles at Dick's teasing, though Damian remains stoic and unamused. You take the opportunity to greet everyone with a friendly smile and a wave.

"It's nice to meet all of you," you say, trying to match their warm reception despite Damian's icy demeanor.

Tim, who's been quietly observing the interaction, finally speaks up. "So, [Name], Damian's told us a bit about you. How's school been treating you?"

You take a moment to collect your thoughts. "It's been... interesting," you reply diplomatically, trying not to reveal too much. "I’m used to online so it’s definitely an experience."

“[Name] takes a ballet class. They are also the lead in the upcoming winter performance,” Damian pipes up, no doubt trying to put you on the spot. Asshole.

Stephanie grins. “No way! Cass does ballet too,” she claps a hand on Cass’s shoulder. Cass nods. She signs ‘what is your favorite move?’ . Barbara opens her mouth, prepared to translate what Cass said, but you beat her to the punch. You respond, fingers moving in practiced efficiency to gesture out your favorite move. Cass grins in approval.

“You know sign?” asks Duke.

“I know a lot of languages,” you smile. It’s true. Many of the Avengers know multiple languages, and they took to teaching you as much as they could. You even learned some Asgardian to impress Thor (he cried). Nat said it was a crucial skill to have.

“Like what?” asks Bruce, leaning in.

You look up as you think. “Russian, Italian, Spanish, some German, some Latin…” you trail off, “...etcetera. My dad has a lot of cool friends.”

A shared look of impressed spreads throughout the room.  Bruce hums, “and what about your father? What does he do?”

“He invents things. Right now he’s on vacation. Don’t remember where exactly he said, but he sends me money every now and again.”

Bruce gets a kind of sour look on his face before nodding. “Ah, sounds like quite the character,” Bruce responds with a nod, trying to maintain his composure. You sense there might be more to Bruce's reaction, perhaps his adoption senses are tingling (God forbid). The dinner conversation continues on lighter notes as everyone shares anecdotes and stories, keeping the atmosphere lively.

“Damian says you also like to invent and program things,” pipes up Dick.

“Yeah, I’m actually working on something right now. It’s pretty big, but hopefully it’s works,” you reply vaguely.

“Your father must be very proud of your accomplishments,” Bruce remarks, his tone measured. He gets a couple of side-eyes.

You nod. “Yeah, he always encourages me to pursue my interests. He’s pretty cool like that.”

Barbara chuckles, "It's always good to have interests outside of school. Keeps things exciting."

Tim nods in agreement, sipping his drink. “Yeah, I dabble in programming too. It’s a useful skill to have.”

After a while, Alfred brings out dessert - a decadent chocolate mousse that looks almost too good to eat. Everyone digs in eagerly, sharing their thoughts on the meal and enjoying the dessert in comfortable chatter.

Throughout the evening, you notice Bruce observing you with a mix of curiosity and concern, as if trying to gauge something beyond your words. His occasional glances toward Damian and Dick imply a silent conversation that you're not privy to, though you catch a few knowing looks exchanged between the brothers.

As the dinner winds down, Alfred discreetly clears away the dishes, signaling the end of the meal. You offer to help with the dishes, but Alfred kindly declines, insisting that you're a guest tonight.

Dick stretches contentedly, breaking the comfortable silence that has settled over the table. "Well, it's been great having you over, [Name]. Hope you enjoyed the meal."

"Yeah, thanks for letting me crash dinner," you reply warmly, smiling around the table. "It's been really nice."

Damian stands abruptly. “I believe [Name] should be heading home now,” he states, pointedly ignoring the snickers.

You nod, rising from your seat. "Right. Thanks again for having me, everyone."

“You’re more than welcome to stay the night, [Name],” smirks Tim. “We have plenty of room, though I’m sure Damian would be happy to–” Cass pinches Tim’s ear, interrupting his sentence.

Bruce nods, his expression serious yet not unkind. "Anytime, [Name]. You're welcome here."

You smile at their antics. “My cat is waiting for me, so I have to pass. I appreciate the offer, though.”

With a final round of goodbyes and well-wishes, you follow Damian out of the dining room. The atmosphere between you two is quieter now, the playful tension from earlier replaced by a sense of calm. "You enjoyed yourself tonight," Damian states, more a statement than a question.

You nod, a small smile playing on your lips. "Yeah, your family's pretty entertaining. I like their dynamic.”

There's a moment of silence as you both stand there, the air thick with unspoken thoughts and emotions. You take a step closer, closing the distance between you and Damian. His gaze meets yours, a mixture of intensity and vulnerability that surprises you.

"You know," you begin, your voice low, "I do really like teasing you, Damian. But I also... appreciate our time together." Your heart beats a little faster as you admit this, feeling vulnerable yet strangely liberated.

Damian's expression softens further, a rare vulnerability in his eyes as he looks at you. "I... feel the same," he confesses quietly, almost hesitantly.

Before either of you can say more, the door creaks open, and Dick pokes his head in with a cheeky grin. "Hey, you two. Hate to interrupt, but Alfred’s outside ready to take [Name] home."

Damian straightens abruptly, a hint of irritation flickering across his features. "We'll be there shortly," he replies tersely, clearly annoyed at the interruption.

Dick raises an eyebrow, his grin widening. "Sure thing. Don't keep Alfred waiting too long," he teases before closing the door.

You roll your eyes playfully at Dick's teasing as he disappears, leaving you and Damian alone once more. There's a brief moment where neither of you speaks, the tension palpable in the air. Finally, Damian breaks the silence.

"We should go," he says, his voice low but firm.

You nod in agreement, trying to dispel the awkwardness that has settled between you. "Right. Let's go."

Together, you and Damian make your way out towards the front door of Wayne Manor. The grandeur of the mansion surrounds you, yet it feels less intimidating now, having spent an evening with Damian's family. As you step outside into the cool night air, Alfred waits patiently by the car, ready to drive you home. Damian walks beside you, carrying your stuff, his demeanor slightly tense yet thoughtful.

As you approach the car, Damian walks up to Alfred and mutters to him. Alfred raises a prim brow, handing Damian the keys with a nod. He walks back towards the Manor, where you see the rest of the family either peeking out the door or straight up standing outside looking. You snort. Damian sets your stuff in the backseat, opening the passenger side door for you to enter. You hum in appreciation, sitting inside.

Bruce watches the car drive away, a pinch in his brow.

“I thought Damian liked Jon?” questions Duke.

“He does.” Barbara squints. Tim gestures to the leaving car. “Then what was that?” he asks. Cassandra hums. “He also likes them, he doesn’t know it yet. Or he is just in denial.”

“Well if Cass says it’s so, then it’s so,” nods Stephanie sagely. Alfred leans closer to Bruce. “They may become part of your brood yet.”

"Perhaps," Bruce murmurs quietly, more to himself than to anyone else. Duke leans in, intrigued. "You think they're good for Damian?"

Bruce considers his words carefully before responding. "I think [Name] challenges Damian in ways that are both positive and... complicated."

Inside the car, Damian focuses on the road ahead, his grip tight on the steering wheel. The drive is quiet. You watch as people go on with their lives. Very few people roam the streets at this hour. You steal glances at Damian occasionally, noting the tense set of his jaw and the focused look in his eyes.

As you approach your apartment building, Damian breaks the silence. "I apologize for my family's... curiosity," he says, his voice soft yet tinged with annoyance.

You chuckle softly, shaking your head. "It's alright, Damian. They just want to get to know me better."

Damian parks the car and turns to face you, his expression unreadable. "They can be... overwhelming at times," he admits reluctantly.

"You're lucky to have them," you remark sincerely.

Damian steps out of the car, grabbing your bag and walking you to the front door. The air feels like a stark contrast to the warmth of Wayne Manor. Damian's gaze meets yours, a flicker of something unspoken passing between you. You lean in slightly, hesitating for a moment before pressing a soft kiss to his cheek, just like last night. Damian freezes for an instant, different to his lack of reaction before.

"Goodnight, Damian," you murmur, pulling back slightly.

"Goodnight, [Name]," he replies softly, his voice barely above a whisper.

With a final smile, you close the door behind you. Damian stands there for a moment longer before driving away into the night. As you enter your apartment, you're greeted by the familiar sight of Nari lounging on the couch. Your phone buzzes in your pocket.

‘All of your materials have been delivered to the address.’ is what greets you when you open up Victoria’s chat. You grin, sending a thank you. Your bed feels like heaven as you sink into it. Tomorrow real progress will be made, and you can’t wait.

notes: reader and damian are practically dating already lets be honest they just dont know it yet

➤ find something worth saving (it's all for the taking)

CHAPTER TWO: SPIDEY LUCK (GOOD OR BAD? YOU'LL NEVER KNOW)

SUMMARY

↳ You're adjusting well, comfortable with your new life. Too bad your spidey luck came with you to this universe.

He offers his arm to you, but you hold out palm. “You’re nice and all, but I’m not letting you know where I live just yet.” He gives you confused puppy eyes. “You’re cute, but not that cute,” you pat his cheek as you walk past him.

He watches you walk past him, before remembering himself and calls out. “What’s your name?”

“Not that cute!” You remind him.

warnings: cursing, mentions of discrimination based on financial situation, a vague-ish sex joke

wc: 2.7k

Setting up an identity for yourself is remarkably easy. Natasha taught you just about everything you need to know. To the world, you are now [Name] Stark. Tony Stark is an eccentric recluse from Queens, with a mysterious inheritance allowing for travel around the world. And you, his curious child are now old enough to find her own way in the world, starting in Gotham. It’s messy, but hopefully it can keep people off your ass for a while.

Hacking into the wealth of Gotham’s elite is easy enough, stealing little by little every day so that they don’t notice (they probably wouldn’t, anyway). You steer clear of anything and everything Wayne related. For now, at least, it wouldn’t hurt to get ahold of some of his tech down the line.

Walking down the streets of Gotham is something your sense may never get used to. It’s easy to hide feeling threatened by everything, but it’s not easy to stop feeling threatened by everything. While you are certain you can handle a few common thugs or muggers, you are not excited to face your first round of fear gas. If it comes down to it, you’ll rely on your suit to protect you from it… hopefully it can.

Getting to East End is easy enough despite all the leers you get. Selina Kyle’s territory is riddled with crime and misdemeanor as much as the rest of the city, but it’s one of the cheaper areas. You’re legally old enough to get your own place, and with the money you take and a job you can hopefully find, you’ll be able to get by alright. As a hero, you should probably feel bad about stealing, but it’s not like millionaire’s and billionaire’s need a couple hundred dollars.

You walk into the rundown building, surveying the interior. It’s certainly seen better days, if the ripped up wallpaper and stains in the carpet are anything to go by. There’s no one at the front desk, so you ring the little bell and wait. Tapping your foot, your thoughts wonder.

You’ve been thinking about enrolling into Gotham Academy. It’s risky, since Robin goes there (you looked it up earlier, he’s around the same age as you), but you know that school has damn good funding, and good funding means a good lab. A lab or workshop is essential to you as a Spider.

A hobbling old lady stumbles out towards the front desk, her smile is sweet. “How can I help you, dear?”

You put on your best unassuming smile. “I’d like to sign a lease to rent out an apartment here.”

“Sure, hun. Just give me the deposit and it’s yours.”

You’re taken aback. “Surely it’s not that easy, miss…?” You prompt.

“May. Listen kid,” she leans in. “We don’t ask too many questions ‘round here. I can spot a troubled kid from a mile away.”

Of course her name is May. You smile, awkward. “I’m eighteen.”

“Eighteen is nothing on my years, girl.”

You inhale and grasp your hands together. “Well, I know better than to look a gift horse in the mouth. When can I move in?”

May grabs your arm and leads you up the stairs. “First door on the right, third floor.”

The apartment is in one piece, only some cracks in the walls. There’s a distinct smell in the air, but you’ll make yourself used to it. There’s some furniture left behind by the previous owner (a bed too, but you’re definitely replacing the mattress). It’s quaint, for Gotham.

“I should warn you, a lot of stray cats come and go. Don’t be afraid to feed ‘em, they’re already coming back anyway,” May huffs.

You smile discreetly. “I got it.

“I would’ve thought you’d lose interest in those things by now.”

Growing up you dabbled in one thing to the next. Gymnastics, volleyball, cheerleading. At one point you wanted to go to space camp, but didn’t want to be away from your aunt and uncle. Your interests come and go, never staying long, but your love for comics has always been constant.

“I’ve been fighting for my freedom since day one,” you jest.

Aunt May sits down next to you. “You know how rich I’d probably be if I got all the money back from buying you those things over the years?” She leans in, whispering, “richer than Tony Stark.”

You snort. “No one’s richer than him.” You pause, thinking. “Actually, Bruce Wayne might be.”

“Is that the Manbat guy you’re reading about?”

“ Batman , May.”

She kisses your head, grabbing the comic out of your hands. “Well, you know what they say. Bad kids who don’t go to sleep at bedtime get snatched up by Batman and his bird sidekick.”

You lean back against your pillows, wrapping yourself up in your blanket. “No one says that.”

“I do. Goodnight, tiger.”

The past week you’ve been making moves. You land a job as a waitress in a nice little cafe around the corner, and you’ve settled in nicely into your apartment. You find out May likes her coffee 2 cream no sugar and she religiously watches telenovelas. On top of that, you’ve made friends with a black cat you’ve affectionately named Nari.

“Alright K, show me past entrance exams for Gotham Academy.”

Uploading Karen into the laptop you bought allowed for you to multitask much more efficiently. You’re trying to emulate an environment you’re familiar with, like FRIDAY back at the Tower, but you have nowhere near the same budget as Tony does. You sigh. The entrance exams for GA are in a week, but you’re not too stressed. You started taking online classes when you moved into the Tower, and breezed past them like it was nothing. You graduated high school 2 years earlier than normal (you could’ve done it in one, but Tony insisted on human interaction (even if you only got it at dances and other school events)).

Looking over the options pulled up, you scoff. “This is shockingly easy for such a prestigious school,” you murmur.

“Perhaps you are just more gifted than them, [Name].”

You coo, “always my biggest fan, K.” You close the laptop, not before transferring Karen into an earbud formed from your suits nanites. “I think I got this in the bag.”

The bells on the cafe’s door ring as you enter. “Hey, cutie,” you flirt at your manager, a woman with 3 kids and a husband (but damn if she isn’t fine).

[Name],” they greet dryly. They put the spoon they’re cleaning down. “Sam’s gonna be late, some lunatic died on the tracks and their ride’s been delayed.”

You hum, having gotten used to Gothamites and their disregard for the weird shit that happens in their city. “What an asshole.”

The morning passes slowly. You spot some stressed folks hunched over their laptops and an old red-head guy reading through the morning paper. The door chimes, signaling somebody’s entrance.

“Welcome to Carrie’s, what can I get you?” You drone, not looking up from the game of Crossy Road you’re definitely not supposed to be playing while on shift.

“Just a small vanilla latte, please.”

You hum, typing it up. “And a name for that?” you question, grabbing the small cup. The young man has wind-swept black hair. He’s got big ole blue eyes, the type that remind you of childhood innocence. His stature is casual and unassuming, but you can see the strength he hides under that big sweater he wears. He almost reminds you of–

“Jon,” he smiles kindly.

Jonathan motherfucking Kent goddammit.

You muster every ounce of will you have to prevent your heart from speeding up, lest he hear it. You scribble his name with tactically careful hands. “It’ll be right out, sir.”

Jon huffs goodnaturedly, waving his hand. “Please, you don’t gotta call me sir. Jon is fine, if you’re comfortable.”

You smile, “sure thing, Jon,” and let your eyes widen when you turn around to pass the order to Sam. They look at you odd when you hand them the cup, but make it without a fuss. They’re weirdly good at seeing through people. “Is he real cute or something?” They ask.

You’re not sure if Jon always uses his super hearing. You imagine he doesn’t out of respect and not wanting to intrude, but you know he’s probably always got an ear out for trouble. Even so, you’ll be caught dead before he has the chance to hear you geek over him.

“Mid,” you scoff, like a liar.

Stupid spidey luck, you swear. Maybe this universe is sentient and is out to get you for real. Jon Kent is, by all means, a cute nerd, but he’s also Superboy . With super strength and laser eyes. Maybe you should, like, break into LexCorp or something. Having kryptonite on hand doesn’t sound like a bad idea.

But maybe you’re just getting ahead of yourself. You take a deep breath, relax , you. You’ve got training from the goddamn Avengers . You got this in the bag! No need to jump the gun. 

Sam takes the order to the front and calls out, “Small vanilla latte for Jon?” Said Jon walks up to the counter, taking the cup and his eyebrows slightly quirk up. Your super hearing picks up his mutter of, “spelled it right…” as he walks off.

“Nervous for the exam?” Sam hums, messing with your earlobe.

“Nah,” you scoff. “It looks like real easy stuff.” You’re more worried about the kind of kids that go there. You’re not foolish enough to think that everybody will be welcoming to a scholarship kid. You’re just thankful you can afford to not look like you’re living on the streets, ‘cause you’re sure at that point you’ll get bullied relentlessly. Nevertheless, your feelings aren’t so easily hurt.

Sam points a finger at you. “Don’t let nobody bully you, those good-for-nothing rich kids wouldn’t last a day out there in the real world. They probably wouldn’t have gotten in without their parents' money anyway.” They grab your shoulders, looking you in the eye. You raise your brows. “I’ll never forget that you did my college level algebra work for me. Seriously, I’ll start paying you to do my work.”

You take their hands. “It’s not a good idea to cheat through college when you’re trying to be a Vet. Probably.”

“I’m saying that you’re way smarter than those losers. They got nothing on you, babes.”

You smile, winking. “I know.” Their smile is sharp. “What’s your beef with the rich anyway? Besides the fact that they’re cheating at life.” You ignore the fact that you technically were rich, in this life and the last.

“Until Bruce Wayne pays my tuition, rich people are useless. All of ‘em.”

Carrie lets you off early to take your exam, and you’re sent off with encouragement all around. Karen guides you along the way, speaking into your ear. Humming a song under your breath, you almost miss the hand reaching out to grab you. You grip the offender’s wrist and whirl around to face them.

It’s Jon. He’s looking at you with wide-eyes.

You furrow your brows. “The fuck, man? Don’t go grabbing people in Gotham.”

His eyes widen even further, hastily removing his grip around your arm. “I’m sorry! I’m really sorry. I just heard you talking about the entrance exams. For GA right? I know the way, I can show you.”

You look him up and down. “You were listening to my conversation? How? You were, like, across the cafe.”

He sputters. “I didn’t mean to, I swear! I just thought I could…” he hesitates, now realizing how weird this is, “...help. And I have really good hearing. Normally good, anyway.”

You stare at him. How is this absolute loser (loving) Superboy? You chuckle. “You’re definitely not from Gotham, are you?”

He relaxes at your smile. “No, is it obvious?”

“Very.” You hook your arm around his. “Lead the way, hero.”

His face flushes, but ever the gentlemen, he doesn’t shove you off. He actually seems to lean into your touch. “So,” you tut as the two of you begin walking, “where are you from, then?”

“Metropolis. I grew up in Smallville for a while though, know it?”

“Kansas, right?” He nods.

“So, was it my dashing good looks that called your name or a biological need to mate?”

He chokes on nothing. “I mean, normal people don’t approach like you did. I know you’ve never seen a beauty like me, but seriously, this whole thing is kinda creepy,” you hum.

He kind of just stares at you. You stare back, and he breaks and chuckles breathily. “I mean, you are pretty cute,” he flirts. Your brows raise in surprise, smiling pleasantly in surprise. “I don’t know, I just like helping people. I’ve always felt the need to do so.” He trails off in thought. “It’s just… who I am.”

It’s fascinating to see the very essence of Superboy in the flesh. You cough and turn your head away. “Pretty corny, if you ask me. But…” you turn back and look at him. “I get it. I like helping the little guys myself.”

“Little guys?”

“Little guys.”

You stop upon the gates of the school, looming above you dauntingly. You turn to face Jon. “How do I look?” He gives you a scrutinizing look before motioning for you to do a spin. You’re wearing a simple hoodie and sweats with slightly beat-up sneakers. Your clothes don’t have to impress anyone, just your score. He thinks seriously, before nodding.

“Looks good to me.”

You chuckle, walking towards the entrance. “See you around, hero.”

“Your heart is racing, [Name].”

“How about we stop talking for a while.”

He watches you walk off. His eyes watch the sway of your hips before he shakes himself out of it. Then, he groans.

“I forgot to get their name.”

The room is cold and only filled with a few students. Their faces are nervous, and if they aren’t, their demeanor is. They’re obviously middle or lower-class kids. You root for them in your head. They’re also in nicer clothes than you are, whoops.

Like you thought, the test is super easy. You finish it far before anyone else, and sit in silence as the clock ticks. You flick the pencil in your hand around, twirling it. Sooner or later, you’ll have to start finding a way back home. You regret not paying attention when Miguel explained things to you. There’s also that whole particle accelerator thing. You sincerely doubt you’ll be able to build something like that yourself. You don’t have access to that kind of money or material, so you’ll find a way to build a watch. Hobie did it, why can’t you?

“Time’s up.”

You blink. The test proctor makes her way around the room, picking up tests as she goes. She gives you a subtle stink-eye when she makes her way to you, and you look her head on. She huffs and makes her way to the front of the room when she’s done.

“You’ll receive a letter of acceptance or denial in a week’s time.” She emphasizes denial and looks straight at you when she does. What a hater.

You walk out the school feeling light. The sky is still cloudy, as it always is. Then, you’re eyes spot a figure waving at you from outside the gate. It’s Jon. What the fu–

You pause in your tracks as he walks up to you.

“So? How’d it go?”

He meets your incredulous stare. “...what?”

“Were you waiting here the whole time?” The test was 2 hours long!

His eyes widened. “No! I went and did some errands. I just came back like five minutes ago.”

You huff in disbelief. “How’d you know when it would be over?”

“My friend has taken it before.” He probably means Damian.

He offers his arm to you, but you hold out palm. “You’re nice and all, but I’m not letting you know where I live just yet.” He gives you confused puppy eyes. “You’re cute, but not that cute,” you pat his cheek as you walk past him.

He watches you walk past him, before remembering himself and calls out. “What’s your name?”

“Not that cute!” You remind him.

He chuckles in disbelief. He’ll find it out.

Batmama imagines(?)

"A Robin will be the son of Batman". She says as she caress one of her boys cheeks as they lay their head on her chest that rises up and down with each breath while the rest of her children settle around her form.

"but you,-". She turns to each one of them, saying their real name -not their hero or vigilante name- with love and adoration, giving them kisses and affection as they receive her love with open arms.

"-shall be mine". She finishes while looking at them.

Her children, her love, her life.

Batman will be the Father of the Robins and Batgirls, But She will be the Mother of Dick Grayson, Jason Todd, Barbara Gordon, Tim Drake, Stephanie Brown, Damian Wayne, Cassandra Cain and Duke Thomas.

Today is 266 days, we are still alive. 🇵🇸🍉

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CHAPTER FIVE: GOOD OLD-FASHIONED LOVER BOY

SUMMARY

↳ Spider-Man and homecoming, when did that ever end well?

He clears his throat. “May I… have this dance?”

You stare at him dumbly for a second, making him nervous. “W-What?” Well said.

“Well, I can’t dance with you during homecoming, so… let’s dance now.” His face is set in an adorable determination. Your heart soars.

warnings: fear gas (people get affected but it's not described), spiking drinks (not with the intention of taking advantage of anyone)

wc: 5.9k

Your mind is elsewhere as you perform your warm-up stretches in the dance studio. Progress with the particle accelerator had been slow. Tony Stark had access to all the materials he needed when he built it, but you don’t. Not to mention all of the welding, cutting and assembling you’ll have to do. You're occupied in your thoughts, but you still hear footsteps approaching.

Victoria. She has her hands on her hips and is looking at you like you’re the nasty chore she’s stuck with.

You raise a brow. “Yes, Vicky?”

Despite all of her faces of disgust when you call her that, she hasn’t demanded you stop calling her that.

“I don’t know why I expected you to be paying attention, clearly you are too airheaded otherwise,” she huffs.

“You’re right, dearest, I wasn’t paying attention. Please, enlighten me.”

“Our instructor has just announced a winter performance. For a grade, of course.”

You sigh. “Of course.”

“We,” she drags the word out, disgruntled, “are the leads.”

Your lips quirk up into a smile. “Oh. This’ll be fun.”

“I will not let you embarrass me, so I will make sure you are a suitable lead,” she huffs.

“And how do you plan to do that, my dear?” you sing, circling her. Your fingers tap her arms as you walk.

She clears her throat. “I will make sure you are paying well attention and are performing adequately.”

“Sounds good to me, princess,” you say, walking away and extending a hand to her. “Shall we?”

She sighs dramatically and puts her hand in yours. It’ll be a long couple of months.

Your extended leg rocks your web hammock back and forth as you think. A song is hummed under your breath, pondering your next move.

“How far is Metropolis from Gotham?”

“Depending on your method of travel, it could range from an hour to 4 hours.”

You have no doubt LexCorp is very well protected in terms of its security measures, but Lex Luther seems a bit of an arrogant man. If he were to find out you had managed to break in and swipe some material, he might not do anything in embarrassment of being had. On the other hand, he is also pretty paranoid, so you have no idea what type of crazy defenses he has.

WayneTech is a very hesitant maybe, for pretty much the same reasons. Batman will already be on alert from your little hacking show earlier.

“Perhaps we shall simply wait for the opportunity to present itself to us, [Name].”

“We’re trying to leave as soon as we can, K,” you whine, bouncing a web ball back and forth between the wall and you.

“You can’t rush perfection.”

“Oh, you flatter me, K.” You lean over and fall out of the hammock, landing gracefully. “But I can never argue with you, lovely. I guess I’ll just have to make due with stuff from the school.” Hopefully they don’t notice the decline of materials.

Patrol goes smoothly that night. You've gone back to listening to your certified patrol playlist now that you’ve gotten back in the groove of things. You hum to a beat as you walk alongside the roof, grooving slightly. You run through equations and formulas in your head as you think about your next headway with your project. You still notice the footsteps approaching, though.

“Which one are you?” you announce, shifting slightly. You don’t get an answer, so you turn around. The figure standing behind you is shrouded in darkness, but a glint of moonlight reveals a familiar silhouette.

“Nightwing!” you hum pleasantly. “Pleasure, quite a pleasure. To what do I owe the visit?”

Nightwing shrugs. “Standard stuff, really. Making sure Gothams latest pest problem isn’t up to no good.”

You chuckle. “That was pretty good.” You sit down on the ledge. “I assure you, blue, that I have Gotham’s best interest in mind.”

“Well I’m sure you’ll be happy to hear that Gotham likes you, for the most part.” Nightwing sits next to you. “Of course, the webs you leave irk them just a bit.”

“They dissolve,” you defend.

“They do,” he agrees, and lets the conversation die. Distant sounds of sirens fill the silence. You can see the blue and red lights from here. You and Nightwing share a moment of calm amidst the chaos.

“Every time I think Gotham can’t get any weirder, I hear news of a ‘giant spider’ terrorizing the criminal underworld.”

You snort, “yeah, that was my bad. I totally had rumors spread about that.” You can see his eyebrow raise underneath his domino. “It was funny!”

“I guess Gotham attracts all kinds of people,” he hums.

“And yet… it’s home,” you whisper.

Another brief silence settled between you, tinged with unspoken tension that always sneaks up on you in Gotham.

“So, did the big Bat put you up to this?” you ask, breaking the quietude.

Nightwing shrugs casually. “Nah, this is all me. Don’t worry though, I’m sure B will corner you eventually.”

“Charming,” you huff dryly against his chuckle.

“And of course, crime never sleeps in Gotham.”

“And so, neither do we,” you smile.

He turns to you. “Surely someone as young as you should be getting more sleep?”

You hum. “So Robin told you about little ole me, huh?” He shrugs sheepishly, in a can you blame him? kind of way. “Like I told him, I’ve been doing this for years.”

“So what’s a young person like you doing spending your nights fighting crime?”

You scoff, “oh, don’t give me that. The first Robin was barely out of diapers when Batman paraded him around.” You ignore Nightwings dramatic gasp of offense. “I’m doing the same as you, trying to make a difference.”

“But no one would blame you for just trying to live a normal life in spite of your abilities.” You’re not sure what exactly Nightwing is trying to achieve here other than getting you to spill something about yourself. What’s it to him what you do in your free time?

‘Yeah well, someone once told me something. Kind of changed my life a little.” You take a deep breath and recite the famous spidey quote, “With great power comes great responsibility.” You turn to face Nightwing. “I can’t in good faith live a normal life when there are people that need me. I have the power to help people, why wouldn’t I do just that?”

You hope your speech passes whatever test he had for you, and the way he stares at you before nodding suggests that you did.

“Just…” he hesitates. “... be careful out there. Gotham’s a tough place, even for someone with your talents.”

You’re not sure why he cares so much, but Dick Grayson does have a sort of a bleeding heart. You watch Nightwing stand, nodding at you before grappling away. It was nice to not have a more violent encounter with one of the Bats (looking at you, Damian). You’re left with the quiet of your own mind.

The next few weeks are a whirlwind of dance rehearsals and lab work. Victoria, true to her word, pushes you hard. She ensures every step, every movement is perfect. You can’t help but admire her dedication.

“Remember,” she snaps one day during a particularly grueling practice, “lean into the spin. It will further your momentum, making your performance overall smoother.”

“Yes, ma’am,” you smirk. Your classmates take notice of the way the two of you dance around each other. You’re sure you both appear really intense to them.

One new development you’ve reluctantly acknowledged is homecoming . You don’t care much for it, you’d rather spend it working on the badassium or patrolling. However, it’s a good way to sneak in and take some more material, so you’ll probably show up for a bit then sneak away. You just have to get through all of the sickeningly sweet hoco proposals.

In other news, you’ve finished your painting that you were assigned for art. You stole one of Miles’ designs from his spray-paint pieces, you hope he won’t mind. It’s a figure outlined many times in all kinds of vivid and bright colors.

“What is it?” Pipes up Damian from your side. Lately you haven’t really interacted much, you’re far too busy trying to make this universe's history books.

“My project,” you reply vaguely. At his unimpressed stare you elaborate, “it’s supposed to be a bunch of different versions of one person. Different people living the same life, one person living different lives, yadda yadda.”

Damian hums, satisfied. You take a breath, spinning in your chair to face him. “So, Damian,” you start, smiling at the way Damian’s face automatically scrunches in irritation. “Anyone special in mind for hoco?”

Damian tsk’s at the thought. “I will not waste my time indulging in such a frivolous activity.”

“Yeah, spiked punch and sweaty teens grinding on each other probably isn’t your vibe,” you agree.

“Then what better things do you plan on doing?” You rest your legs on his side of the table, invading his space. He ignores it, to his credit. He’s gotten used to your antics.

“Doing something far away from you.” You bark out a laugh at his response. You retract your legs and massage your feet. For all your super strength and resilience, ballet is still killer.

Damian eyes your movements. “How are your dance classes progressing?” Damian’s gotten better at conversing, you’re just surprised he chooses to do so with you. But then again, you’re sure he still thinks you’re the number one suspect as to who Spinnerette is.

“Victoria is a delight, as always,” you roll your eyes. “She’s more of a teacher to me than the actual instructor. She’s thorough though, knows her stuff.” You pause. “Think she’ll say yes if I ask her to hoco?”

His eyes narrow. “You jest.”

You close your eyes and nod. “I jest. I stand no chance because she’s waiting for you to ask her,” you grin, eyeing his eye roll. You furrow your brow in thought. “They accept people from other schools, right? Maybe I’ll ask Jon…”

He straightens in his seat. “Jon?”

“Oh yeah, you guys are friends, forgot.” You didn’t forget. “Yeah, we’ve been hanging out lately.” It’s true, Jon frequents at least once a week for movie night. You’ve also exchanged numbers, affectionately naming him ‘please get this boy some brown contacts’ in your phone. “You think he’d say yes?”

“Do not even think about asking him,” growls Damian. Woah.

You hold up your hands in defense. “My bad dude, didn’t know it was like that.” Jeez, it’s not like you're going to corrupt Jon or anything. Then, you slump in your seat. “Maybe I’ll just skip it, then. Going alone is only cool if you’re cool.”

“If it means so little to you, why bother?”

“Opportunities, D. It’s all about opportunities. Plus, who knows? I could be missing out on the chance for something big. Like my rich future spouse.” Damian scoffs, and the bell rings. You grab your stuff and set off to practice, Damian falling into step beside you. You groan.

“Come on, man. Vicky’ll put me through hell when she see you with me.”

‘Maybe that’s my plan,” he smirks.

“One moment of peace with you. That's all I want.” Predictably, Victoria’s eyes narrow when Damian drops you off at the studio. However, she doesn’t waste time fluttering her eyelashes at him.

“Hurry, get dressed,” she demands, turning away from you two. You share a look of surprise with Damian as you step inside. Perhaps this show is more important to her than you thought. You get changed in record time, hurrying back out lest you encourage Victoria’s wrath further.

The hour passes in a blur of graceful movements. Your hands grasp Victoria’s waist as you lift and spin her. She spreads her arms and legs with all the elegance of a true dancer. You wonder if she wasn’t set to inherit whatever her parent’s set aside for her, would she have pursued a career in dance?

“You’re getting the hang of it,” she admits, a hint of begrudging approval in her voice.

“Only because of you,” you flirt, smiling with your teeth. She rolls her eyes but says nothing.

A knock sounds on the door. The instructor gets a giddy grin on her face and practically hops over to open in. You and the rest of the students stop practicing in curiosity. Behind the door is your typical jock type, with a bouquet and a poster in his hands that says ‘Will you PLIÉse go to Hoco with me?’ It’s clever, you’ll give him that.

“Victoria Hearst, will you do me the honor of going to homecoming with me?” Your classmates clap and cheer in awe of it. Victoria gasps, walking up to the jock, but pausing. To your huge surprise, she turns to you. Her eyebrows are furrowed, like she’s confused.

You’re not sure why she’s looking at you. Maybe she’s waiting for your approval? You can’t think of why she would want it. Personally you wouldn’t be caught dead with his type, but maybe he’s sweet on the inside or something. You give a smile and gesture her forward.

She purses her lips, before smiling charmingly at the boy, nodding. The class erupts in cheers once again as the pair hug. The instructor, for all her giddiness earlier, quickly snaps at everyone to go back to their places. Practice continues well into the evening. You get a small wave from Victoria when you depart home, a pleasant surprise.

You end up outfit shopping with Jon the day before homecoming. The boutique you’re in isn’t too fancy, even though you can afford more with Bruce Wayne’s ever so gracious stipend.

“Maybe I should wear blue, the same shade as your eyes. I like them,” you mutter, thinking. Nothing here particularly catches your eye. You suppose you shouldn’t care so much, it makes no difference to you. Besides, you won’t be spending much time at the dance anyway, you’ve got material to steal after all. But Tony has instilled the art of appearances into you, and you don’t want to disgrace his teachings.

Jon gulps beside you, still not used to your random flirting's despite the fact it’s been weeks. “I thought you had a thing for hot pink?” he asks as you pick up some simple heeled dress shoes.

“Yeah, but I’m not going for a bold look this time around.” You place your hands on your hips. “Maybe just plain old black is the way to go,” you say, grabbing a black suit off the rack and examining it. You hang it over your arm, deciding that it will be the way to go. It’ll be easier to hide in the crowd when you look like the rest of ‘em. “Now, for accessories…” you mutter, looking at the earrings on display. You pick up some faux emerald studs and examine them.

“I like this ring,” Jon pipes up. You turn around and see he’s holding a simple flowery ring with a blue gemstone in it. You hold out a hand and he slips the band onto your ring finger. It looks at home.

“Looks good,” you agree. You pack up the earrings, ring and the suit and take it to the register. You pay for it and Jon picks up the bag for you. What a gentleman.

The walk back to your apartment is filled with mindless chatter between the two of you. Nari greets you when you open the door, meowing real cutely. You press a bunch of kisses on his skull, because he deserves them. Jon places the bag on your couch.

“Well, since I’m not allowed to ask you the hoco, I’ll try it on just for you, yeah?”

Jon blinks. “Not allowed?”

“I mentioned it to Damian, and he made it very clear I was not allowed to take you.” You lean in and whisper in his ear, “between you and me, I think it’s because he wants to ask you.”

Jon snorts. “I doubt that,” he mumbles, watching you go to your bedroom to change. “I would have had to say no anyway, I’m… busy that day.”

“Well, I guess I was saved from an awkward moment,” you holler through the door. You make sure you look clean and put together before stepping out. You spread your arms and do a twirl.

“Well?” you ask.

Jon’s mouth is ever so slightly agape. His eyes seem to sparkle a little as he looks at you. Blue meets blue when he stares at the ring on your finger. You watch as he stands up, walking over to you.

He clears his throat. “May I… have this dance?”

You stare at him dumbly for a second, making him nervous. “W-What?” Well said.

“Well, I can’t dance with you during homecoming, so… let’s dance now.” His face is set in an adorable determination. Your heart soars.

You chuckle, abashed. He holds out his hand for you, waiting.

“Oh, wait!” you gasp. You dash over to your laptop, opening youtube. Jon watches as your fingers dash over the keyboard. ‘Good Old-Fashioned Lover Boy’ fills your apartment. The song has always reminded you of him. You race back to Jon, finally putting your hand in his. He quickly pulls you close to him.

“Queen?” he chuckles, placing his hands on your waist. You throw your hands over his shoulders, scoffing. “Nothing wrong with Queen.”

“No,” he agrees, swaying with you. You spend the rest of the evening together.

Walking into the academy’s gym, you’re immediately blasted with loud music and colorful lights. Everyone is looking quite dapper, but like you suspected, a bunch of black suits. You fit right in.

You sip a bit of the punch, grimacing. Nobody spiked it yet? You’re surprised. Yeah, this is a prestigious school or whatever, but teenagers will be teenagers. You guess they’re all too pussy to do it. No worries, you’ll do it for them.

“I don’t believe this is wise,” says Karen as you pour some alcohol into the bowl. “It’s only a little amount,” you reassure. “Drunk people are less likely to notice things.”

You observe the people of your school. They’ve long gotten used to your presence, hesitantly making room for you. Still, you aren’t really a part of them. You sigh. You know you sound like a broken record, but you really have to get back home. The last time someone stayed on an Earth not their own was Miguel, and well… you know how that ended.

In other news, you’ve spotted Victoria! She looks real pretty, all dolled up. Her hands grip a cup of punch as she stands next to whats-his-face. He’s chatting with his jock friends, completely ignoring her! Hell no, you’re not gonna let that slide.

You wait for his friends to go away before sneaking up on him. “You better dance with her, asshole.” It’s satisfying to see him jump and look around to see who said that, but you already walked away. He scratches his head, before walking over to Victoria. It’s satisfying to see her face light up as they walk to the dance floor. Your job here is done.

You find your way to the gym doors, peaking into the hallways. No one’s there, surprisingly. You scurry down the hall. You visit the lab first, swiping any and all things you think you might need. The blueprints left behind by Howard Stark are kind of obscure. They weren’t meant for anybody but Tony, after all.

Next you make headway to your engineering workshop. Seeing it now, it looks pretty spooky without the lights on. You walk into the storage closet where all the materials and parts are kept. It’s actually pretty big. You think you might be in Heaven. You set your backpack down and go through everything. You stuff various metals and scrap into it, tools and switches, fans and whatnot. Then, you spot it. A glass chamber, hidden in the corner.

You grab it carefully, examining it. It’s the perfect size for your nanite chamber! You grin. You have no idea why there’s a big glass tube just in here, but hey, you’re not complaining. You carefully make room for it in your bag, hauling it over your shoulder. You poke your head out in the hallway, no one’s there. You sigh, content with your scavenge. Humming under your breath, you make your way out of the school.

behind you right behind you grabbing yOU–!

You turn around quickly, eyes wide. You just looked around, there was no one there! A hand lays outstretched in the air before you. Your eyes travel up the offender's arm and meet green. Damian. Of course.

“I thought you didn’t have time for such frivolous activities,” you blurt, for lack of something better to say. You grip your bag strap tight.

“Who else would keep an eye on you?” he grunts. You coo, “do I attract your eye, then?” Performing a spin, you miss the way he looks you up and down.

He reaches out and flicks your emerald earring. “Tell me why I shouldn’t report you for theft,” he says as he gestures to your bag.

“Because I’m… awesome?” you try. It doesn’t work, clearly. Damian’s looking at you like you’re the very epitome of ‘human disaster’. “It’s for my personal project, lay off.”

Damian steps closer to you, and you finally have the time to really take him in. He’s got a simple dress shirt covered by a black vest. Dress pants, dress shoes, all looking very expensive. An elegant satin green tie pulls it all together. You hum appreciatively as you look him up and down.

“And what exactly does this ‘project’ entail?” he murmurs, grasping your hand and examining the ring. Flirting with you to get you to spill? Smooth.

“You like it?” you ask, referring to the ring. “Jon chose it.”

Damian furrows his brow immediately, looking at you. You grin. “He said he liked it on me, specifically.”

Damian huffs, dropping your hand. “I’m not building a world-ending weapon or anything. I’m allowed my hobbies,” you say, laying a hand on his chest as a way to calm him. “Honest.”

He looks into your eyes for a moment, opening his mouth to speak–

BOOM .

The ground rumbles, Damian grabbing you and you grabbing him. You stay locked together as you stand still, listening. Screams erupt, coming from the gym. Damian pushes you towards safety in a nearby janitor’s closet.

“Stay here, lock the door,” is all he says before running off towards the gym, no doubt planning to save the day as Robin. Way to be subtle.

Karen already knows what to do, letting the suit emerge from your bracelets under your sleeves. You sprint towards the gym, opening the doors silently. People are hiding behind and under tables, whimpering. There’s a gaping hole at the end of the gym, no doubt the loud explosion you heard earlier.

The one and only Scarecrow stands in the settling dust. He sure lives up to his name, that costume is frighteningly ugly. He raises his arms, canisters in hand, and throws them into the crowd. They explode with a hiss, releasing plumes of noxious gas. Hell. No.

You spring into action, webbing the canisters to try and block the spread of the fear gas quickly. A few gasps are heard from the students. You turn to them. “The fuck are you waiting around, for? Run!” They heed your call, quickly finding their way to the doors on the other side of the gym. Scarecrow tries to throw a canister at the running crowd, so you quickly web it, sticking it to the wall.

“You cannot save them,” he taunts, gesturing to the few students that still got hit with the fear gas. “Their fears will consume them, just as yours will consume you.” Ah, right. You are standing right in the middle of where his first cans exploded. Time to find out if your suit blocks the fumes.

A batarang appears, knocking Scarecrow's canisters out of his hands. Robin, the man himself, lands next to you. You can’t help but quip, “I thought such a prestigious school wouldn’t be so easy to break into?”

“It isn’t,” is Robin’s dry reply.

“Well, looks like someone missed the memo,” you retort, eyes locked on Scarecrow. You survey your surroundings, there’s still some lingering kids, plus the one’s victimized by the fear gas. “Handle him, I’ll get them out of here,” you command. Robin nods in understanding.

You jump away, quickly webbing up the fear gassed victims so they don’t hurt anyone or themselves. They scream and trash, making you wince and mutter rushed apologies. You kick up a table, depositing them behind it. Robin is holding his own against Scarecrow efficiently.

A couple of rushed whispers escape you as you encourage the leftover students to follow you out. You guide them, ducking under tables until you reach the doors. You breathe, the only one left is–

Victoria. Where’s her date? Did he leave her to save himself? Asshole, you swear. You call for her. “Hey!”

She turns to you, looking worse for wear. Her makeup is running down her face, carefully tied hair now loose in disarray. Poor girl. She runs over to you, tripping into your arms. “It’s okay,” you whisper as you usher her to the exit.

“Spinner!” Robin yells. You turn around in time to deflect a throwaway can of fear gas. Victoria whimpers in your arms. “It’s alright, Vicky,” you say breathlessly. The last you see of her is her wide eyes as you shut the door.

Scarecrow growls in frustration. “You!” he points at you. “Why are you not affected!?”

A clawed finger clinks against your mask as you tap it. “My suit’s really cool like that.” Thank God , you weren’t sure if it would repel the gas. With a flick of your wrist, you send a web at Scarecrow to restrain him. He dodges, just barely.

“Or maybe I’m just already living my worst nightmare: a villain with a bad fashion sense,” you quip, weaving around. “Now let’s wrap this up before I start critiquing your escape plan.” You launch a web up at the ceiling, letting it carry you up. More webs grasp at Scarecrow, tugging him to you. Robin watches as you tie him up, Scarecrow flailing uselessly in the air.

You ignore his speeches about how ‘fear is eternal’ and ‘you’re delusional if you think you can stop it’ in favor of dropping him to the floor, roughly. You land next to him, leaning down and dragging him with you to the hole in the wall. “I’ll leave you here as my thanks to the GCPD.”

Robin comes to a stop next to you. “Call me corny, but you and I make a pretty good team, no?” you say, crossing your arms as you look at him.

“Do not flatter yourself, I did most of the fighting.”

You snort. “Yeah, but I got him in the end, didn’t I?” Robin shakes his head. “I’m just surprised you’re not shriveled up in fear like the rest of them.”

Robin crosses his arms. “I am capable of holding my breath.” Your mind wanders to inappropriate trains of thought, making you grin. The sound of sirens get closer, signaling the approach of the GCPD, and probably the other Bats as well.

“Well, I get terrible police anxiety, you know how it is,” you say, taking steps out of the hole. Robin follows you out. “Bye,” you say, before swinging away. You round the building, letting the suit retract back into your bracelets. You enter through a back door, avoiding cameras. You quickly straighten out your ruffled appearance, making your way to the gym. Some students are lingering around on their phones, either showing each other what they recorded or calling somebody to pick them up.

You pass Victoria on the way. She’s holding her arms, hugging herself. She raises her head and stares at you as you approach. You pause in front of her, not really sure what to say. She probably doesn’t want your comfort, so you’ll keep it brief. “Glad you’re okay,” you say as you awkwardly pat her shoulder. You quickly scurry inside the gym, feeling what you’re sure is a judging stare.

Just as you thought, some of the Bats are here, administering the antidote to the victims. You make a show of looking for Damian, just in case he’s watching. There’s an incessant buzzing in your pocket. Pulling out your phone, you swipe open Jon’s messages.

please get this boy some brown contacts

why did i just turn on the news and ga was attacked

hello?????

are you okay??????

please be okay

why arent you answering are you dead

please dont be dead

Your heart churns at his worry. You just want to gnaw on him, he’s so cute. You send a selfie of you throwing up a peace sign with the police and Batman in the back.

yeah lmao im ok

shit was crazy but damian shoved me a closet all romantically and then ran off

looking for him rn hope he aint dead

he told me he wasnt even gna come what a liar

oh my gosh youre alive no way 

are you sure youre okay im pretty sure you just experienced something really traumatic

YES jon like i said i was in a closet the whole time

well im glad damian shoved you in there

also yeah he is a stinkin liar sometimes

You chuckle and let the conversation die. You make sure to answer Sam’s concerned messages with the same selfie and reassurance.

“I see you are alive and well,” comes Damian’s voice behind you. He’s got his hands in his pocket casually, looking completely put together and not like he just fought crime. He’s good.

You huff and turn around to face him. “Yeah well, it’s hard to die when you’re chilling in a closet that somebody shoved you into,” you snark accusingly.

He scoffs, ”I practically saved your life.”

“And then ran off. Where did you go, anyway?”

Damian turns his head, surveying the law enforcement as they work. “I helped in aiding the other students escape.” Yeah, whatever.

“Oh, really? We got ourselves a hero type over here.” You cross your arms and bump him gently. His head lolls with the movement. “Maybe you really are Robin.” He ‘tsk’s, but says nothing. You let the silence consume the both of you, eyes wandering the scene. Concerned parents cry in outrage at their fear gassed children. You wonder if they’ll sue. Then, you notice something.

“Why is Batman looking at me like I just cursed his entire bloodline?” you ask Damian, making him drop his arms and look to where your eyes are. You’re exaggerating, it’s hard to tell exactly how Batman’s looking at you with the cowl and the distance, but he isn’t exactly being subtle.

“That’s just how he usually looks,” says Damian, trying to remain casual. You are pretty damn sure he’s trying to signal to B that he needs to chill. Karen confirms that he actually is in your ear. Your mouth twitches as you wrangle a grin under control.

“Well, tonight was lame. I’m gonna go home before the big bad bat decides I need to be ‘vengeanced’ or something.” You turn around and begin walking away. “See you around, Dami.”

Damian grabs your arm before you can get far. “Let me walk you.”

You raise a brow. “Trying to figure out my base of operations?”

“It is late and you shouldn’t be going home alone. Especially after tonight,” he gestures to the scene.

You shrug. There’s really nothing to hide at your apartment, and he definitely already knows where you live regardless. “My hero. Okay, if you insist. But you’re paying for the ticket.”

“What ticket?” he scoffs. “My butler will be driving.” Oh. Right.

You scoff. “Of course you have a butler.”

He places a hand on your back to guide you out. You risk a subtle glance behind you and see that Batman is still looking, but more so at Damian now. You make a stop to the closet Damian shoves you into to pick up your haul, ignoring his side-eye. It seems he has let it go, for now.

Cold air greets you as you step outside with Damian. Arguably one of the coolest characters in the DC verse stands beside a sleek looking car, Alfred Pennyworth. You’re a big fan.

“Master Damian, Mx [Name].” He greets primly, stepping aside to open the door for you both. Damian nudges you in, and you make sure to thank Alfred and give him your address as you slip inside. Damian settles in beside you, his arm pressing into yours. You look out of the window as the drive commences. There’s not much to say.

“Tonight could’ve gone worse,” Damian says, breaking the silence. “I suppose we should be grateful for that.”

“Grateful, sure,” you reply, not taking your eyes off the city lights flashing by. “Though I wouldn’t have minded if it hadn’t happened at all.”

He nods, a slight smirk playing on his lips. “True. But then, I wouldn’t have had the chance to save you.”

You roll your eyes. “Is that what you’re going to hang over my head forever? ‘Remember that time I saved you in the school closet?’”

Damian chuckles, a rare sound that makes you glance at him. “Perhaps. But I think you’d do the same.”

“You know me so well,” you say, a small smile tugging at your lips.

You lean back in the comfortable leather seat of the car, feeling the tension of the night slowly ebbing away. The drive through Gotham's streets is surprisingly smooth, with only the occasional sound of sirens in the distance to remind you of the chaos that unfolded earlier.

As you pass under the shadow of skyscrapers, you steal a glance at Damian. His profile is illuminated by the faint glow of city lights filtering through the car window. Despite the adrenaline of the evening, he seems composed, almost serene.

He catches your glance and turns to meet your eyes, his own reflecting a mix of lingering intensity from the night's events and a quiet contemplation that seems to soften his usually sharp features. The silence between you feels comfortable now, no longer laden with the tension of earlier encounters or the urgency of the situation you just escaped. You offer a smile, and this time he doesn’t have any reaction. Just a calm expression.

“We have arrived,” Alfred announces softly as the car comes to a stop, almost hesitant to break the silence. You step out of the car, giving Alfred a nod of gratitude before heading up to your apartment. You turn back one last time, meeting Damian’s gaze before unlocking your door and heading inside. As you settle in, you can't help but feel a strange mix of emotions—relief, curiosity, and something else you can't quite place.

You drop your bag next to your bed and collapse in it. Nari comes trotting over, hopping onto your mattress and curling up next to you. Tonight was anything but lame. And as reluctant as you are to admit it, Damian’s presence made it a bit better.

You close your eyes, letting sleep take your mind.

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